


Unholy Trinity

by Aneiria



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Demon AU, Demon Draco Malfoy, Demon Tom Riddle, Double Vaginal Penetration, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hell, Light BDSM, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Multi, Power Dynamics, Shameless Smut, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Tom Riddle is His Own Warning, Triad - Freeform, magical au, making a pact, non-voldemort au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:08:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26917870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aneiria/pseuds/Aneiria
Summary: She told herself she had no choice.No choice but to submit herself, mind, body and soul, to the two demons before her.She did it to save her two best friends, after all.But standing at the gates of Hell, she wonders if it was all really worth it...
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy/Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle
Comments: 25
Kudos: 354
Collections: Hermione Granger Mythical Creatures Fest 2020





	Unholy Trinity

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [1st_HG_Mythical_Creatures_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/1st_HG_Mythical_Creatures_2020) collection. 



> Please check the tags before reading this! There are elements of dubious consent and power dynamics at play, and Draco and Tom are actual demons, so expect them to be quite dark.
> 
> Huge thanks to [Grace Lou Freebush](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grace_lou_freebush/pseuds/grace_lou_freebush) my wonderful, WONDERFUL beta!

The first time they came to her was the night of her nineteenth birthday. 

She and her friends had all finished at Hogwarts by then, and Hermione was stuck between wondering whether to take a mastery in Ancient Runes or start working some lowly job in the Ministry. 

A dark shadow fell over Hermione whenever she tried to make a decision about her future, however. All because of the prophecy she’d overheard back in her third year at Hogwarts.

She’d never told Ron and Harry about it, that night she’d gone back to the Divination tower to return a lost crystal ball. Professor Trelawney’s blank eyes and gasping breaths as she choked out the words she wouldn’t remember speaking a moment later.

Hermione’s two best friends were destined to die in a war before they could celebrate two decades of life. 

The night of her birthday, after a few quiet drinks with her two best friends in the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione, Harry and Ron made their way back to Grimmauld Place, the London townhouse Harry shared with his godfather Sirius Black.

The house was large enough that Sirius had been more than happy to open his home to both Ron and Hermione to stay rent-free for as long as it took them to find their feet in the city and in life.

As Hermione turned nineteen, the oldest of the three, she didn’t feel in the mood for celebration.

The prophecy still haunted Hermione.

Safe in her room later on, Hermione pulled on her pyjamas and went to bed with her half-kneazle, Crookshanks, curled up on her feet, a book open in her hands under a _lumos_ spell.

The first sign of their approach was Crookshanks’ leaping suddenly awake, fur on end and bottle brush tail straight up in the air. He hissed in the direction of empty air, and fled from the room through the part-opened window, never looking back. As Hermione watched him leave in bafflement, she felt a strange stirring of the air in her room and turned back to the space Crookshanks had hissed at. 

Her heart momentarily stopped beating.

Hermione’s room was her sanctuary. The thick, burgundy carpet and golden curtains reminded her of the comfort of the Gryffindor common room, and the ceiling-to-floor bookshelves that covered the entirety of the back wall were the fixtures that had made Hermione claim this room for her own. 

A moment ago, the room had been empty. Now, two tall, young men stood, one with hair as pale as moonlight, the other with hair as dark as midnight.

It was clear from one glance they were no ordinary men.

The blond one, the sides of his lips curled in a smirk that shouldn’t have been as attractive as she found it, was dressed entirely in black: tight leather trousers, heavy boots, a dark shirt, tooled holsters around his long, luscious thighs that seemed to be holding curved silver daggers. His hair was artfully ruffled, and she could see dark tattoos on his arms beneath his rolled-up sleeves. He looked deadly competent, as if he could snap someone’s neck in half without the smirk dropping from his face.

The dark-haired one wore clothing fit for a king.

Long, sumptuous robes of heavy, green silk draped over his lithe frame, and - although he didn’t wear a crown - he carried himself as if he did. Here was a man who sent people like the blond to do his dirty work for him, and they would do so with a willing smile.

Hermione was speechless with fear and shock, and the silver-haired man smirked and crossed his arms. 

‘Surprised to see us?’ he drawled with an arch of his eyebrow while the dark-haired man nudged him gently in the ribs.

‘Now, now, Draco,’ he said with a voice as thick and smooth as molasses. ‘Don’t scare her.’ 

Hermione found her tongue at that. ‘I’m not scared,’ she bit out, puffing up with Gryffindor pride. 

No matter who these two wizards were, she would not let them intimidate her. The dark-haired man’s smile broadened at her words, while the one called Draco gave her an admiring nod. 

‘I like her, Tom,’ Draco said now, and his companion - Tom - chuckled in response. 

‘I knew you would,’ Tom purred, giving Draco a look of pure indulgence. ‘Only the best for my darling boy.’ 

‘Sorry,’ Hermione managed, looking from Draco to Tom with rising alarm and wondering if she could _Accio_ her wand quickly enough to defend herself. ‘But _who_ exactly are you? And _how_ did you get into my room?’ 

Instead of answering straight away, they walked towards her, sitting on either side of her mattress. Hermione gulped and pulled the duvet cover up to her neck. 

‘So many questions,’ Tom teased gently.

‘Such an inquisitive nature,’ Draco added mildly. ‘You know what they say about curiosity, these humans?’ he added, turning to Tom. 

_Humans_?

Tom rolled his eyes. ‘Something about felicide, yes,’ he drawled in response. 

‘Who are you?’ Hermione asked again, her earlier bravado gone. 

Hermione felt the tiny hairs on her arm rise from her skin, and she wondered if she stood any chance of survival if she shouted for Harry, Ron and Sirius at the top of her lungs. Their own bedrooms were all on the same floor, separated only by doors and space.

As if reading her mind, Draco leaned forward and gently pressed one long finger against her lips, silencing her thoughts.

‘The real question you should be asking, sweetheart,’ he said with a hint of danger in his tone. ‘Is, _what_ are we?’

‘The more useful question,’ Tom added nonchalantly. ‘Is what we can _do_ for you.’

Hermione forgot to be scared, flashing him a hard look instead. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked cautiously. ‘What are you? What can you do for me?’

Draco reached up to gently stroke her cheek, his touch like fire against her skin.

‘Tom and I,’ he started, his voice soft as if speaking to a startled Granian. ‘We’re demons, Hermione. From the depths of Hell itself,’ he finished in a rough whisper that sent shivers down her spine as his eyes glowed an ethereal blue. 

Tom shifted closer, his fingers trailing up her arm and leaving an icy path in their wake. ‘And we can do anything for you,’ he purred, his lips brushing against her ear as he leaned in to whisper to her. ‘Including negate that prophecy you’re so worried about.’

Hermione froze in place, trapped between the two demons. 

‘How do you know about the prophecy?’ she asked shakily. She had told no-one about it, not a single soul, and she was certain Trelawney remembered nothing from that night. 

‘Oh, darling,’ Draco whispered into her other ear now, as Tom’s hand stroked up to her neck, resting on the pulse point at her jugular. ‘We know everything.’

Hermione’s heart was racing and her breath was shaky as Draco and Tom crowded her in the bed and carried on stroking her arms, nuzzling her neck, and dropping kisses on her hair. 

She knew she should be _terrified_ , should shout for help, but there was something so hypnotising about them, so compelling. She heard herself whimper in pleasure when Tom bared his teeth and sank them gently into the soft flesh where her neck met her shoulder. 

When he pulled away again, Tom whispered to her as well.

‘We can make it all go away, Hermione. Your friends don’t have to die. They can live long, fulfilling lives.’

She should tell them to go. She was sure they would hold no power if she rejected them. She opened her mouth to cast them out, but fleeting images ran through her mind.

Ron and Harry with her when they were Sorted into Gryffindor that first day at Hogwarts. Then, sticking up for her when she was bullied for being too smart and Muggleborn. Bringing her home for Christmases and other holidays after her parents died. Hugging her when she was sad, laughing with her when she was happy. 

Surely she would give anything to keep the two of them safe, to give them the lives they deserved. 

Hermione looked up to the heavens as Draco and Tom carried on their slow worship of her body. 

Even if her own soul was forfeit, she could save her two best friends.

‘What will it cost me?’ she asked resignedly, and both demons pulled away from her. 

‘Cost you?’ Draco said in surprise. ‘It will cost you nothing, Hermione.’

‘It will cost you nothing, and everything,’ Tom amended, a sly smile on his face. ‘You will give us everything.’

‘But so will we,’ Draco finished for him. 

They both sat back and watched her while they waited for her to make her decision. 

It didn’t take her long. 

‘You swear they’ll both be safe?’ Hermione asked desperately. ‘Ron and Harry both, safe and happy?’

‘The war that would otherwise kill them will never come to be,’ Tom assured her.

‘They will both live long lives and never set foot on the grounds of Hell in the afterlife,’ Draco added.

‘And me?’ Hermione asked, her voice barely audible. ‘What will become of me?’

‘You’ll be ours during your life,’ Draco said, a promise.

‘And ours during your afterlife,’ Tom added, a threat. 

‘Will you—’ Hermione had to stop briefly as a sob choked her words. She took a deep breath and carried on. ‘Will you take care of me?’ 

A plea. 

‘Forever,’ Tom promised.

Hermione closed her eyes. 

‘I agree.’

‘We have your body?’ Draco asked, his voice full of sin and lust.

‘You have my body.’

‘We have your soul?’ Tom added, his voice full of darkness and desire.

A pause. 

‘You have my soul.’

As she uttered the words, they stood from her bed. The air around them grew dark and misty, and they started chanting in a language she didn’t recognise, their voices distorting and lowering as they spoke in demon tongues. When they looked back down at her, she saw their eyes glowing red through the darkness. 

Draco, then Tom, each grabbed hold of her left forearm, their fingers pinching at her skin until it grew hot and itchy and tears of pain sprang from Hermione’s eyes. She gasped when they released her simultaneously, and she fell back against her pillows in terror as the dark mist dissipated almost instantly and the demons were at her side again.

When Hermione looked down at her forearm, she saw she had been branded. A large skull with a slithering snake coiling from its mouth was imprinted on her arm. 

‘You’re ours now,’ Tom said with a sly smile.

‘And your friends are safe,’ Draco said.

Hermione tried to sit up, but Draco pushed her shoulders down.

‘Ours,’ he repeated firmly, and a moment later, he’d pulled the duvet away from her body. Tom smiled down from the other side, and with an almost lazy swish of his hand, he vanished Hermione’s pyjamas, leaving her completely naked before them.

She gasped in alarm, but Tom pinned her wrists up by her head before she could cover herself. He and Draco groaned as they drank in the sight of her body. Tom gave a grin and another swipe of his hand, and then he and Draco were naked too. 

Hermione forgot her fear for a small moment as she gazed upon their twin beauties. 

Draco was fire, Tom was ice.

Draco was long, lean muscles, flashing silver eyes and scarred skin as pale as moonlight. 

Tom was flat, firm planes, devious green eyes, flawless skin and dark hair. 

They were beautiful. 

But then, Hermione reasoned to herself, they were demons. She braved a glance at their eyes.

‘What do you really look like?’ she asked shakily, not sure she wanted to know the answer. 

‘What is real?’ Tom asked with a fluid shrug, his muscles rippling as he moved. 

‘Whatever you want to be real,’ Draco said to her, leaning down to kiss her properly, a kiss of passion, a kiss that said she belonged to him.

When he pulled away, Draco pushed her thighs apart, and she knew better than to resist. Instead she let him expose her, averting her eyes when her cunt was on display and both Draco and Tom drank in the sight of her with greedy eyes. 

‘So beautiful,’ she heard Tom murmur, and when she chanced a gaze back up to him, she saw he was gently stroking Draco’s bare shoulder as he knelt just behind him. 

‘I bet she tastes as good as she looks,’ Draco replied, and Hermione only had the chance to throw him a startled look before he buried his face between her thighs. 

She gasped when his hot, hard tongue met the sensitive flesh of her cunt, his strong hands holding her thighs apart so he could devour her unhindered. He ignored her breathy cries of desire, the sound of his name falling from her lips, the way her thighs clenched and shook against his head. Briefly she remembered how close the other bedrooms were to hers, and this time hoped they wouldn't hear her cries.

In what felt like seconds, Draco licked her clit, hard, and Hermione cried out as her body broke around him. A flood of wetness, an explosion of stars, a long, languorous ripping of pleasure from her core out to her entire body. 

Hermione lay shaking and panting in the wake of her first orgasm not caused by her own fingers. Draco pulled his face up from her body, a satisfied smile on his face. 

‘As good as you hoped?’ Tom asked lightly, and Draco gave Hermione a wicked smile before turning to Tom.

‘Better,’ he purred. ‘Why don’t you have a taste?’ And with that, Draco pulled Tom close to him and kissed him, long and hard, as Hermione watched. She saw Tom open his mouth willingly to Draco, tasting her essence on him before licking it from Draco’s lips. 

‘Delicious,’ Tom smiled, lovingly stroking Draco’s jaw. ‘Now, it’s time.’ 

Draco nodded, and before Hermione could ask, time for _what_? he settled himself back in between Hermione’s legs. He took his cock in his hand and shuffled closer to her.

Hermione gazed up at Draco, into his hypnotising silver eyes, as the tip of his cock brushed against her entrance. 

She was terrified, but desperate. Scared, but wanton. She parted her lips, and Draco ducked to lick them. She could still taste traces of herself on his tongue.

‘Draco,’ she murmured, her hands curling up into his hair. ‘I’m a virgin,’ she admitted quietly. 

Draco’s wicked smile grew bigger.

‘We know,’ he whispered, and in one smooth, sharp move, he buried his cock deep inside her cunt, snapping through any resistance, making Hermione see stars and scent blood and lose all ability to think. 

Tom climbed behind Draco, his lips trailing along Draco’s neck as he watched Hermione below them, his green eyes heavy with lust. 

‘How does she feel?’ Tom whispered into Draco’s ear as he very slowly pulled almost all the way out, and Draco just moaned and sank back into her. ‘That good, huh?’ Tom smiled. 

Draco nodded wordlessly, and Hermione gasped as he thrust into her again, this time hitting a delicious spot inside her, pleasure finally battling with pain. She felt her hips pulse helplessly up against his body, and Tom chuckled darkly.

‘Good boy, Draco,’ he purred against Draco’s face. ‘I think you’ve broken her in nicely.’

Hermione squirmed at his words, mortified at the flood of arousal it caused, making Draco’s dick slide into her even more easily. He grunted.

‘She liked that, Tom,’ Draco panted. ‘Think she’s going to like being our little plaything.’

_Merlin_.

‘Excellent, because I want to play as well. I hope you’re ready to share that perfect little cunt of hers, Draco.’

Draco didn’t question Tom, not even when Hermione gave a tiny squeak of alarm. She assumed that Draco would fuck her first and then Tom would have his turn, sealing their agreement that way. 

Did they have something else in mind? 

Panic and lust flared inside her in equal measure, making her heart beat faster and her breath shorten. 

Draco grasped her close and rolled them both over, keeping himself locked into her, until he was leaning against her pillows. She straddled his groin until Tom’s hands rested on her waist, and between the two of them, they turned her on Draco’s dick until she was lying back again, her back to Draco’s chest. Tom knelt between her thighs, his green eyes greedily raking her body and lingering on where she and Draco were still joined. Draco placed his hands on her thighs, firmly pulling them apart to fully expose her cunt to Tom. 

‘Let Tom see you, sweetheart,’ he murmured, and she had no choice but to obey, mortification flushing her body. 

Tom’s hand stroked her belly and her hips before trailing down the inside of her thighs, brushing against her clit and then reaching lower. Draco groaned from behind her, and Hermione cautiously looked down to where Tom had taken Draco’s balls in his hand and appeared to be squeezing them - judging by Draco’s long hiss of pain - quite hard. 

‘You’ve always been such a little painslut, Draco,’ Tom said with an affectionate smirk, and when he released his hand, Draco let out a long breath. 

‘That’s one of the reasons you love me,’ he shot back, making Tom’s grin widen. 

Tom ducked his head, his tongue hard as he licked Hermione’s clit, sending electric thrills through her core. He licked her again before moving his head lower, his tongue tracing a path from the base of Draco’s dick up to where he and Hermione were joined. When Tom pulled back again, his green eyes were glittering with desire, his cock huge and straining.

‘Get her ready for me, darling,’ he purred to Draco. 

Draco slowly worked a finger into her cunt alongside his cock, murmuring sweet words of worship to her as he did. Hermione moaned at the stretch, trying to scrabble away, but Tom’s hand clamped down on her shoulder as he slowly worked himself up and down, holding her in place. She whimpered as Draco added a second finger, scissoring them to stretch her a little more, before he looked up and gave Tom a short nod.

Hermione felt a flare of panic rise in her when she realised what they intended to do, and her palms came up to brace themselves against Tom’s chest as he moved closer, one hand wrapped around his dick.

‘I don’t think I can—’ she started in desperation, but Draco shushed her as Tom traced the head of his dick against her clit. 

‘You’re ours, Hermione,’ Draco whispered into her ear, his fingers holding her open. Tom nudged the tip of his dick in between them, and Hermione groaned in pain as she was wrenched apart. 

He went slowly, at least, forcing himself in inch by inch. When he was anchored far enough in her, Draco slid his fingers free. As she was suspended between their two bodies, her cunt already feeling so completely filled even as Tom worked himself in further, Draco traced her clit with his fingertip. She moaned again, but this time the balance between pleasure and pain was a fine one. 

Draco’s expert fingers carried on rubbing her, circling her, bringing her closer and closer to the edge even as Tom’s cock slid in deeper and deeper alongside Draco’s. He had her so perfectly dangling on the edge that as soon as Tom’s dick finally slid in the final inch, claiming her utterly, it only took a hard press of his finger on her aching clit for her to come with the burst of a thousand stars behind her eyes, gasping in delight as her body tensed and her cunt clamped down hard on their dicks deep inside her. 

Draco and Tom let out twin groans of lust, Draco gripping her hips and Tom grasping her waist, as her hands scrabbled weakly against Tom’s chest and her legs wrapped around his thighs. 

‘So fucking perfect for us,’ Tom crooned now, and when she was finally able to open her eyes, she saw his gaze slide from her to Draco behind her shoulder. ‘Ready?’ he asked, and Draco must have nodded because she went from being impaled by two cocks to being impaled on one and fucked - hard - with the other. 

Draco held still inside her, his hands on her hips holding her steady, as Tom grabbed hold of her thighs and started fucking her, stretching her and filling her with each thrust.

Soon Hermione couldn’t tell where she ended and where they began, or who it was that stroked her, kissed her, murmured her name in worship. She’d long given up worrying about being heard by the others. All she knew was that Draco and Tom were dragging her to hell, but it felt strangely like heaven. 

Tom and Draco stayed with her throughout the long, dark night, never letting her sleep. Instead, they took turns fucking her, licking her, teasing her, until finally they fucked her together once more and disappeared before the first light of dawn, despite her begging them to stay.

As Hermione heard the familiar, comforting sounds of Harry and Ron starting to get breakfast ready in the kitchen, she ran a hand over her bruised lips, as if to reassure herself Tom and Draco’s presence hadn’t been a drinks-fuelled fever dream. 

It had been no dream.

They had been there and left Hermione utterly debauched, dripping with come, and very much deflowered. 

* * *

The last time they had come to her was on the night of her twenty-ninth birthday.

Until then they’d visited her twice every year, once on the night of her birthday, and once on All Hallow’s Eve. 

But Hermione didn’t live to the ripe old age her two best friends were promised to do. 

Instead, she was hit with a stray curse at her job as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries and died the day before her thirtieth birthday.

She didn’t know whether this fate had always been written in her stars or whether two certain demons may have had a hand rewriting the tapestry of her life.

Either way, she found herself staring up at the black gates of Hell, dressed in long white robes, the charred earth uncomfortably hot beneath her bare feet.

Hermione had known with certainty since her nineteenth birthday she would go to Hell when she died, but she still felt her dead heart seize in fear to actually be here. Before she could even think about running away, the heavy, black gates swung open, revealing a barren landscape within and two figures looking down at her. 

They were demons, but not the two she had hoped to be greeted by. 

One was bipedal, humanoid except for the fact that its entire body seemed to be made of molten lava. The other hunched on all fours, hairy and hulking with bared fangs like a giant wolf.

‘Voldemort wants to see this one,’ the lava demon remarked casually, and the wolf demon flashed Hermione a look of dark curiosity.

‘Summoned before Voldemort himself, eh? You must have been a very naughty girl back on Earth,’ he growled, saliva dangling from his wicked teeth.

‘Voldemort?’ Hermione tripped up over the unfamiliar syllables. 

‘The King of the Underworld,’ the demon explained with a cruel smile. ‘He and his consort only deign to… _greet_ … the most evil of sinners.’

‘The King…’ Hermione uttered in horror, and she tried to struggle as the two demons clamped their hands down on her arm, half-leading, half-dragging her away. ‘No, wait, please,’ she tried, desperately looking around for any sign of Tom or Draco, but this fiery world seemed otherwise empty.

They said she would be _theirs_ in the afterlife.

They said they would look after her.

She was thrown to the ground before a huge, black iron door which sizzled slightly in front of her. 

‘ _Please_ ,’ she tried again, brokenly, a single tear running a track down her cheek.

The lava demon gave her a wicked smile and bent down so he was face to face with her. She flinched away from the scalding heat.

‘Long live the king,’ he whispered in her ear, and then he grabbed her as the wolf demon pushed open the door and threw her inside. Hermione fell to the ground, her head bowed, and flinched in terror as the heavy iron door slammed shut behind her.

There was nothing but silence for the first few moments, nothing but Hermione’s laboured breathing as she tried to stifle a sob. Then, she heard ringing footsteps on the black stone floor, and she cowered as a figure stepped in front of her, towering above her. She screwed her eyes shut, not wanting to see what Hell had in store for her, and started as a long finger hooked under her chin. Her head was forced up, and she finally opened her eyes.

The first thing she saw was the face of the demon who stood before her, watching her with flashing silver eyes as he held her chin up. 

The second thing she saw was the face of the demon who sat on a grand iron throne a few steps away, watching her with piercing green eyes as she cowered on the floor.

‘Tom?’ Hermione whispered, feeling a thread of relief unfurl through her even as her heart beat faster at the sight of him. Like that very first night, he wore heavy, silk robes of emerald green, only this time he did have a crown on his head, golden and splendid. ‘ _You’re_ the King of the Underworld? And Draco…’ she turned her gaze to her other unworldly lover, dressed in his signature black with his signature smirk. ‘The consort…’ she whispered, and he released her chin and tenderly stroked her cheek instead.

‘Yes, the Prince of Darkness,’ Draco said wryly. ‘It’s all rather dramatic, but in case you haven’t noticed by now, demons thrive on spectacle.’ 

Draco helped her to her feet, brushing back a loose curl from her tear-stained face, and kissed her. Keeping hold of her hand, he led her the few short steps towards Tom’s throne. Hermione stood before him, her cunt starting to throb with the way his eyes raked her body, still dressed in the long white robes. 

‘Am I supposed to kneel before you?’ she asked seriously, and a wicked grin spread across Tom’s face.

‘Hermione, darling,’ he purred. ‘There’s only one reason I’d want you on your knees in front of me.’ 

Hermione felt herself flush at his words, and Draco chuckled from beside her. 

‘Come on, Tom,’ Draco chided gently. ‘She’s had a rough day; you can’t just make her flustered like that. Why don’t we get her settled?’

Tom rose gracefully to his feet, taking Hermione’s hands in his and brushing a kiss against her cheek. 

‘We’ve been waiting a long time for you, Hermione,’ he murmured. ‘And now you’re here, you’ll want for nothing.’

Between them, they led her out of the throne room into a sprawling palace of long hallways and grand rooms. 

First, they stripped her, the long white gown that shrouded her body dissolving into nothing with a single touch of Tom’s fingertip.

Next, they bathed her in an enormous golden bathtub, taking turns to run their hands up and down her naked body. Afterwards, they anointed her body with richly scented oils until her skin glistened in the flickering firelights.

Finally, they fucked her, claiming her as they did that very first time together. 

Hermione was dressed now in a sumptuous silk and lace gown in the darkest blue of midnight. Her curls were long and loose around her shoulders, and she knew her eyes were still wide with apprehension and shock.

Tom and Draco were back in their signature green robes and black leather, flanking her as they walked her through the halls of the palace of Hell and up to a door leading, apparently, to a grand balcony. Draco stayed with her, a reassuring, solid presence by her side, as Tom pushed open the doors and walked to the edge of the balcony. He flung his arms out wide as he addressed the audience she knew looked up at him from the burning grounds. 

‘We have waited many years,’ Tom was saying now, his rich voice carrying as he spoke to his subjects. ‘But finally our trinity is complete. Prince Draco and I present to you all your new mistress.’ Tom turned and held out his hand, and Draco walked Hermione forward, his hand resting comfortingly on her waist. She took Tom’s hand, feeling a thrill of pleasure as he gazed at her with his piercing, green eyes. He leaned forward to kiss her cheek. ‘Ready?’ Tom murmured softly, and Hermione nodded, speechless. 

Tom led her forward to the edge of the balcony, Draco following close behind. 

Below them, the denizens of Hell stretched as far as the eye could see. Demons of all appearances and glamours, from the beautiful to the beastly.

As one, they dropped to their knees before her. Tom held Hermione’s hand up high, Draco’s hip grazing against hers as he stood next to her.

‘Hermione,’ Tom called out, his voice powerful and echoing throughout the land. He turned his gaze back to her, smiling beatifically. 

‘Queen of the Night.’


End file.
